


Handholding

by her_majesty_wears_jeans



Series: Outside the (Ask) Box [6]
Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Angst, Could Be Canon, F/M, No Dialogue, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Season/Series 03, lmk if you know where the quote is from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-11-24 10:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20906006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_majesty_wears_jeans/pseuds/her_majesty_wears_jeans
Summary: The case with Lara Cramer cut Nadine deeper than Mike realized.





	Handholding

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after ep 3x18.

**_“Holding hands is a promise to one another that, for just a moment, the two of you don’t have to face the world alone.”_**

* * *

Mike’s life has suddenly become very quiet. Not in the professional sense – he’s currently couch-sitting for a senator from New Jersey, and his cabinet is a mess if Mike has ever seen one. None of the people that have been let go because of him have been shy to express their opinions about it. He feels like his ears are still ringing when he gets home.

His home is quiet. The kind of unsettling quiet that would be threatening in a scary movie. The kind of overpowering quiet that has him taking off his shoes already in the foyer and tiptoeing further into his apartment, hoping he’ll find his girlfriend curled up on the couch in the living room.

Nadine’s rarely quiet. She’s not afraid to raise her voice at work when people need to be put in their places. She doesn’t stay silent on topics that she feels need to be discussed. She doesn’t hesitate to ask for things she needs, be it at the office or in the bedroom. She hums while doing chores or getting ready in the morning. She’s vocal in practically every aspect of her life, and Mike loves that. It takes a lot to render her speechless, but he’s learned a couple of ways how to, and he loves that, too.

Over the past week, though, Nadine’s barely spoken to him. She doesn’t initiate conversation, and when he tries to do so, she answers with short sentences; not clipped like she’s mad, nor vague like she’s concentrating on something, although the latter is not too far off. She’s not fully present, but it doesn’t seem her mind is clearly on anything either.

In practically any other case, Mike would be raking his head for where he’s screwed up, but he knows Nadine’s not giving him the silent treatment on purpose. For once, he’s not at fault. Knowing the real reason, he almost wishes he were, though. He doesn’t know the details, outside of what Bess and Nadine have shared, which isn’t much, but he knows it’s about Kyrgyz girls and an American reporter. The things he’s heard are gruesome and heartbreaking for sure; still, he doesn’t know what about their deaths specifically troubles Nadine so much. It’s terrible and unfair, but it’s… the way of the world. Their world. It’s not something she should be surprised by anymore. He’s surprised she’s still processing.

Mike doesn’t understand, perhaps, since she won’t elaborate, but he’s glad Nadine has still been spending time at his place instead of isolating herself completely. That way when she comes home late one night, unwilling to meet his eyes while foregoing dinner in favor of scotch, he can try to help. He can’t do much and none of it seems to make Nadine feel better but… Knowing he’s at least tried lessens the miserable feeling he gets whenever he sees her lately.

He’s not used to worrying about her. Nadine is independent and resilient and mercilessly sharp; she shoulders whatever crap thrown at her and then some, whether it is by foreign dignitaries or just the world itself. She can give him a round for his money, and by now, Mike believes she takes pleasure in keeping him on his toes. Their thing is fun and flirty and, even if she won’t admit it, still weirdly functional. She’s remarkable enough he’s been starting to wonder what exactly he’s going to do with her. It’s been years since he’s been with someone he cares about as deeply. It’s been years since he’s been with anyone at all.

He isn’t familiar with the protocol of situations like this, but when Nadine finally breaks the silence to let him know she’s planning to attend Lara Cramer’s funeral, Mike offers to go with her. She doesn’t thank him but doesn’t protest either, so he dusts off the suit he hasn’t worn in ages and slips to the back of the small group gathered in the cemetery. There aren’t many participants, and Mike knows none of them. None of them know him either, which Nadine seems to take advantage of as she uncharacteristically falls out of step with him, content with walking behind him. The State Department has laid low on this one; Mike’s not sure Nadine is meant to be here, and briefly, he wonders if anyone even knows. Aside from Bess, they probably don’t. 

The weather is grey and chilly, befitting of the service that goes off without greater fanfare. It’s after a music piece, as they mention Lara Cramer by name for the second time when Nadine’s fingers swiftly graze his own, causing Mike to look down to his hand in surprise. Her touch is so light he would probably have missed it had it been anyone else. But Nadine’s been his main focus throughout the ceremony. She’s an expert at noticing his eyes on her, so he’s tried to be discreet by leaning on his other senses more; listening to the pace of her breaths and sensing her posture.

The way Nadine has kept her head down hasn’t escaped his notice either. She’s hiding behind a curtain of hair, only the pursing of her nude-colored lips giving away she’s listening to the ceremony. Seeing her so unlike her usual brazen self makes Mike realize he has failed to appreciate how hard the case has hit her.

And maybe that’s why it catches him unaware when her glassy eyes briefly flicker to his, her expression simultaneously giving nothing away and leaving him winded with shared pain. More than anything else, he wishes he could tell her it’s going to be okay, aches to say all the empty platitudes he wants to believe in, wants _her_ to believe in. But he doesn’t have the words and doesn’t want to lie. It’s not okay – nothing is at the moment. It’s the way of the world.

Even so, he’s there for her. Would be, at least, if she let him. So, he does the only thing he can to comfort her: he takes her hand and squeezes tight.


End file.
